


Come Home

by yeuxdangeyams



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Death, Death Wish, Flashbacks, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It's Not Talked About A Lot, Komori Motoya Dies, M/M, Nostalgia, Not Beta Read, Therapy, old abandoned house, sensory prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29976483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeuxdangeyams/pseuds/yeuxdangeyams
Summary: if you would like to cry while reading this i suggest you listen to 'Stuff We Did' by Michael Giacchino from the Up Soundtrack because thats what i listened to while writing this and it possessed me to create this. I cried. A lot.
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Come Home

**Author's Note:**

> if you would like to cry while reading this i suggest you listen to 'Stuff We Did' by Michael Giacchino from the Up Soundtrack because thats what i listened to while writing this and it possessed me to create this. I cried. A lot.

This was their home. The place where they used to reside. It was never truly home to suna, without him. Hes not even sure why he’s back here, in this place. He swore he’d never step foot in here again. The aching of the floorboards underneath his feet say differently. A thin layer of dust has collected on the banister that floats up into the air when suna brushes his fingertips across it gently. Part of him is shocked this place is still for sale. The other part is glad. He wouldn’t be able to come back here if it wasnt. 

Theres comfort and familiarity in the old smell of the house. It’s been sitting for too long. Sunlight streams in filters through every open window. Their house was just as he’d last left it. Beautiful, achingly so. He wishes motoya was here to see this with him. Then again, he wouldnt be here if that were the case, would he? 

He walks down the hall where photos used to hang; he remembers each and every one like they were hung up here yesterday instead of four years ago. There’s comfort in the still of the silence that hangs in the air. It never used to be like this. Their house was lively, never a dull nor quiet moment shared between the two of them. That was, until it all began to fall apart. But suna refuses to think about those days. They were bleak, and most of them were spent in hospitals, anyways. Which he hates now. He’d prefer the bone chilling nostalgia of the old home he used to share with the only man he’ll ever love than the cold scent of anesthetic and cleaning supplies and being surrounded by weeping family members who cried for the loss of their loved ones. Suna preferred to grieve in the comfort of his own home, thank you. But lets be real, he didnt even do that. No. picture frames came off the wall the day after it happened. Their his home had never felt so devoid of life. 

His feet have carried him unconsciously upstairs. Maybe they’re so used to his daily routine, despite it having been a year since hes been here, that it was just his body’s subconscious desire to go to where he used to sleep. The room seems so much bigger without any furniture in it. The whole house feels bigger without motoya in it. Big enough to swallow him whole. Motoya’s death had swallowed him hole and spit him back out. He was never the same. Despite the year of therapy and weekly meetups with miya atsumu and osamu and their respective partners, he could never regain that feeling. What was it again? He couldnt remember. 

What he could remember though, was the exact layout of their room. Where every single potted plant sat and what book was placed where on their meticulously organized bookshelf in the corner to the left of where the tv was mounted on the wall. He remembers the picture frame of him and motoya on their wedding day that sat on their bedside table, next to motoya’s cat alarm clock that meowed to wake them up every morning at 6 am sharp. Suna always hated that thing. The photo now resided in a box tucked away into the attic of miya atsumu and kiyoomi’s house. He only felt it right that motoya’s cousin took care of his belongings that suna couldnt bare to look at anymore. Sometimes, he wished it was kiyoomi instead. His therapist told him that resentment towards still living family members of those deceased was actually a common thing, just that it wouldnt do any good for him to hold hostile feelings like that towards them. 

Suna felt a lot of things after motoya’s death. The usual pain and depression that followed, along with resentment, anger, guilt, and the feeling that he’d wished maybe it wouldve been him instead. He’d learned to let go of all that over the course of a year. Toya wouldnt want that for him anyways, he would muse. 

This house held so many memories for the two of them. Most of them were buried the day that motoya breathed his last breath, surrounded by every person who had ever loved him, which was quite a number of people. Motoya had died loved and safe and peaceful in his sleep, with suna holding his hand as he sobbed softly and wiped away his tears with the back of his free hand. There would be no more days in their bright and sunny kitchen where motoya would ask suna to bake with him and then throw flour at his perfectly black t-shirt or pelt him with eggs and snicker annoyingly in a way that suna secretly loved. There was no more cat alarm clock, for the first night suna tried to sleep with it in his new apartment, he woke up crying at the fact that motoya wasnt in bed next to him, nor was he in the kitchen making coffee, out for a run, or visiting kiyoomi at a time way too early for the both of them. He was gone, and soon after was the cat clock. No more pictures adorning the blank white walls of suna’s new place. He didnt need the memories anyways. For the first time in a while, suna’s photo storage was clear. He was all about making sure he captured everything on camera. But after motoya died, he just wanted everything gone. No more reminders of a love he could no longer hold onto. Physically or not. He tried for so long to let go. It wasnt until he stepped foot in their old home again that he truly realized he’d been holding onto whatever piece of motoya he could. Turns out he really did need the memories. 

And as he says one last final goodbye to the place where he loved motoya more than anything in the world for as long as he could, its then that he truly, finally lets go.


End file.
